The look on Limbane’s face could best be described as cornered. She was on to something. Eva paused to breathe, ashamed to realise that her cheeks were damp with tears of frustration.
‘You’re going to gather up your people and get out to Waeverleyne, right away. If you can’t do that, then our friendship, such as it is, is over. I’ll not help you with another thing. You want to know what Krays is up to? You find out yourself.’
Limbane snorted. ‘You think yourselves so indispensable? I can send someone else.’
‘Then why haven’t you?’
Silence.
‘You can’t, can you? The whole lot of you have built a lifestyle out of spying on each other. Krays knows every single one of your people, as you know his. And he’s already got at just about every other partial Lokant in our worlds. We are your only options, and you know it. So there’s your choice.’
Limbane’s eyes flicked to Tren’s face, still immovably grim, and back to Eva’s. Then, surprisingly, he looked at Andraly, his eyes asking her a question.
All trace of her customary mirth and cynicism had gone from Andraly’s face. She glanced briefly at Eva, then took her grandfather’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
‘She’s right, grandfather,’ she said. ‘You made this. Better fix it.’
He hesitated.
‘Wouldn’t it be a shame to see all that work go to waste?’ Andraly added, with a tiny smile.
‘Manipulative wretch,’ he snarled at her, pulling back his hand. ‘All right, your ladyship, I’ll do what I can,’ he said, turning a ferocious glare on Eva. ‘No promises. Have you any idea how hard it is to disable an airborne mech?’
‘Not the slightest,’ she replied. ‘That’s why I came to you.’
Limbane may be difficult to deal with, but he was certainly efficient. Eva and Tren had been ordered to wait in the chart room; they hadn’t been there long before Lokants started arriving.
And kept arriving, in ones and twos and threes. Most brought some manner of equipment with them: tool kits and belts, boxes and chests, and myriad mechs and devices Eva had never seen before. They kept coming, until even the chart room began to feel full. Looking over the crowd, Eva guessed there must be over one hundred Lokants gathered.
‘I never realised there were so many people in this Library,’ Tren whispered to her, staring out at the sea of white-hairs.
‘Me neither. This is an impossibly big building though, recall. There must be a lot that we haven’t seen.’
‘Didn’t Limbane once say that Krays’s Library was much smaller?’
Eva smiled a little. ‘I hope so, or our errand could take a decade.’
Limbane arrived. He stood near the main door, speaking to nobody, frequently checking a complex-looking timepiece that he wore on his belt. With the arrival of a few more Lokants, he apparently decided that they were ready.
‘Right, quiet down,’ he barked, and they did, almost instantly. ‘You’ll all know why we’re here. A rival Lokantor’s exercising advanced mechs in unsuitable places and we’re going to call a halt to that, all right? Maximum efficiency, please. You all know your roles: stick to them. This is a warzone we’re heading for and it’s not going to be pretty. Any questions?’
‘Specifics of the mechs, Lokantor?’ someone asked.
‘Getting to that,’ Limbane said. ‘If anyone has any objections to this, you’d better leave now. Once we get out there it’s going to be too late.’
Something was odd about this speech. With a jolt, Eva realised that Limbane wasn’t speaking the language of Glour or Glinnery, as he did with her. The language was close, so close that she had no trouble understanding what he’d said. But it was subtly different in many small ways. How could that possibly be?
‘What’s the destination, sir?’ a female voice called.
‘19th Cluster.’
A murmur went up at that, as if Limbane’s answer, meaningless to her ears, meant something important to them. Eva made a brief effort to locate Andraly, hoping for some answers, but she couldn’t see her in the mess of people.
‘Quiet,’ Limbane shouted. ‘The mechs in question are a new type. My information is currently limited, but here’s what I’ve got.’ He repeated Llandry’s descriptions, with a few additions incomprehensible to Eva. He followed that with a string of commands to various Lokants, none of whom Eva was acquainted with, in which he named a series of objects, none of which she’d heard of. The exchange was a rapid one: each person addressed responded with a quick “Yes, sir,” or “Confirmed, Lokantor,” and then the discussion was over and the Lokants began to travel away. As the room emptied around her, Eva had to privately applaud Limbane, no matter how angry she still felt with him. He could get things done.
Finally, the chart room was deserted except for her and Tren, Limbane and Andraly. Limbane looked at her.
‘Satisfactory?’ he asked tonelessly.
‘Quite.’
He nodded. ‘Then go to your task. And get me something good.’ He vanished and so did Andraly, with a small, sardonic parting smile for Tren.
Eva let out a long sigh. ‘That’s all we can do, I suppose. Carry on with the plan.’
Tren looked at the distant ceiling. ‘I feel like there must be more we can do to help.’
‘There really isn’t. Besides, you saw the numbers Limbane took. If a hundred Lokants can’t save the Seven from Krays’s mechanicals, nothing can.’
Tren nodded, still looking dubious. Or rather, guilty. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘You feel like we’re running away. But we’re not. We’re going straight to the source of all this trouble.’
‘Think we’ll get him?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
Tren kissed her, and she could feel him shaking.
‘Right, well,’ he said at last. ‘Let’s go.’
***
Llandry put her voice-box away, tucking it carefully into her clothes. Talking to Eva was always comforting: the older woman never failed to sound confident and in control. If anybody could talk Limbane into helping Waeverleyne, she could. The conversation had left Llandry with a flicker of hope; faint, but it was there.
Finding Iver’s intensity unnerving, she had gone outside for the conversation, out of his line of sight. That had proved to be a mistake. The noise of her father’s machinery was almost painful, filling the air with the rat-tat-tat of the automated guns and the roar of explosions. Overhead the draykoni continued to shriek as they dived and swooped, trying to get at the machines half-hidden under the surviving thicket of the forest.
The defence of the city was not going well. Iver’s men had downed a few of the live draykoni, and Iver had his men using her father’s net launcher machine to claim the corpses and drag them into secured areas. Nobody wanted the draykoni resurrecting their fallen comrades. In spite of this, a couple of the corpses had been reclaimed and revitalised and it was likely that the same would happen to the rest. Pensould had told the Commander about the degree of energy it took to resurrect another draykon - they wouldn’t be able to keep it up indefinitely. But Iver hadn’t been reassured. The few casualties they’d inflicted had been too hard-won.
The last corpse to be reclaimed by the enemy had been taken by a draykon-construct. The monstrous thing had made a dive for the ground, banked at the last minute and gone up again, a draykon corpse in its claws. The body ought to have been too big and heavy for it to carry, but it had taken it far enough away for its living allies to safely take the load. Every one of Iver’s strategies was quickly and neatly defeated by the teams of draykon and draykon-constructs, and she could see desperation in his eyes when he’d spoken to her.
Heartsick, she darted back into the ramshackle building Iver was using as headquarters. Heads turned in her direction as soon as she appeared, faces displaying a mixture of hope for her errand and a new dread. Something else had happened.
‘What
is it?’ she asked, heart hammering.
‘Llan,’ Pensould said, coming over to her. ‘A new report has just come in. There are some constructs approaching on the ground, coming from the west and the south. They sound like whurthag types. There are many of them.’
Llandry’s heart froze. Ynara and Devary had travelled west, together with her father. ‘But my parents...’
He nodded. ‘I know. I think we must go to help them.’
Llandry looked to Ori and Avane.
‘Tell me what Eva said, and then go,’ Ori said. ‘We’ll deal with Iver.’
‘Thanks, Ori,’ she said. She rattled through Eva’s comments - not that there was much to tell - and then shifted on the spot. She chose the shape of a fast-flying bird and was airborne within moments.
But as she streaked out of the building, turning herself towards the west, she almost flew into the face of a tall white-haired man who was standing just outside, staring into the skies. Seven or eight more white-haired figures stood with him, with another appearing every second.
The Lokants were here, already! This seemed impossibly fast, until she remembered the funny way time worked in Limbane’s Library. They might have spent many hours preparing, while only a minute or so had passed in her world.
The Lokants would know how to deal with the whurthag constructs. Blurring back into her human form, she had to resist the impulse to hug the nearest white-haired stranger.
‘This is good,’ said Pensould behind her. ‘I will fetch the Commander.’
Chapter Nineteen
Eva and Tren returned to Griel’s house to find he and his wife engaged in an intense conversation. They cut this short as Eva appeared.
‘We cannot take you to Krays,’ Ana snapped.
‘Oh?’ said Eva with studied calm. ‘Why not?’
‘Because he cannot be found.’
Was this the truth, Eva wondered, or was Ana trying to delay? ‘I know the university people at Draetre were unsure of his whereabouts, but I thought that you would have better information.’
Ana snorted. ‘Why would you suppose that? Being unpredictable is part of his power. You don’t go to him: he finds you.’
‘Well then, when do you think he will next come to find you?’
‘That is not possible to predict.’
Two possibilities flitted through Eva’s thoughts. One: perhaps she was telling the truth, in which case this was indeed a problem; but then why hadn’t Ana mentioned this before? The alternative was that they were playing some other game and had never intended to carry through Eva’s plan.
If the latter, they wouldn’t get rid of Eva and Tren so easily. Eva settled herself in Griel’s most comfortable chair and crossed her trouser-clad legs.
Ana scowled down at her. ‘What are you doing?’
‘Waiting.’
‘For what?’
‘For you to resolve this problem.’
Ana’s eyes narrowed. ‘It will take some time.’
‘We will remain here in the meantime,’ Eva said with a smile.
Ana exchanged an unreadable look with Griel.
‘It is likely that he is in his Library,’ Griel said in his deep, measured voice. ‘But you must understand. It is a complex place, and we have access only to some parts of it. If he does not wish to be discovered, it will be impossible for us to access his location.’
‘Perhaps you should go and see if he is within reach,’ Eva suggested mildly.
Ana muttered something inaudible, and vanished.
‘I don’t suppose you have any tea, do you, Griel?’ said Eva. Given the time-flow difference between this world and Krays’s Library, they wouldn’t have time to drink it before Ana returned, but no matter. At least she might get a sip or two.
‘No,’ Griel replied.
So much for that. She shifted in her chair, uncomfortable. Something was poking into her hip. Digging her fingers into her trouser pocket, she found a wadded-up piece of paper.
Unfolding it she read a single word printed in plain handwriting: “Orlind.”
Her brows rose. Turning the paper over, she sought in vain for some explanation as to what was meant, or who had put the note into her pocket. The paper was blank besides that single word, and bore no clues as to the identity of the writer. What could it possibly mean?
Orlind was the name of the mysterious Seventh Realm, hidden behind impassable mountains and long cut off from the other six realms. Eva knew of theories aplenty of what might lie in that almost-forgotten place, all wildly improbable. No one could claim to possess any real evidence of what might be behind that mountain range.
Her own belief was that it was probably an inhospitable, inhabitable land, empty of all life and interest, and that was why nobody seemed to know anything about it. She hadn’t felt any of the curiosity that gripped some people over its mysterious state.
But perhaps that theory would have to be abandoned, too, for somebody thought she ought to be aware of the name of Orlind.
Tren moved up behind her. ‘What’s that?’
She passed the note up to him, her gaze settling on Griel. He’d watched her open and read the note but not a flicker of expression had crossed his impassive face. No curiosity, no surprise. Had he placed it in her pocket? If so, why would he?
‘Does the name “Orlind” mean anything to you, Griel?’
‘No.’
‘Orlind?’ Ana had reappeared somewhere behind Eva; she crossed the room with quick steps and Eva heard a rustle of paper as she snatched the note out of Tren’s hand.
‘Where did you get this?’ Ana demanded, circling around into Eva’s field of vision.
‘Out of my pocket.’
‘Well, who put it there?’
‘I haven’t a notion,’ Eva said coolly, ‘but if you have some idea of what it means, I’d love to hear about it.’
Ana tossed the paper back to her with a shrug. ‘Nothing specific. I’ve heard it mentioned once or twice, that’s all.’
‘Where? And by who?’
‘At the Library. I don’t remember who.’
Eva sighed. Again, truth or lies? She wished, not for the first time, that they weren’t obliged to rely on such unstable, untrustworthy people as these two. But her comment, however brief, was interesting. Someone at Krays’s Library had talked of the lost Seventh Realm before. Was it significant?
‘What luck with Krays?’ Tren asked from his station behind her chair.
‘Not to be found,’ Ana said shortly.
‘How thoroughly did you search?’ Tren’s voice was full of suspicion.
‘Thoroughly,’ Ana snapped back. ‘I may not have been gone long by your reckoning, but by mine it has been some time.’
‘I always forget that,’ Tren muttered. ‘What now, then?’
Ana shrugged. ‘We wait for news.’ She glanced at Griel. ‘But not here.’
No; certainly not here. If Krays turned up looking for Ana and found her in Griel’s house, their story would fall apart: she was still supposed to be unaware that her husband lived. But merely waiting for news wasn’t an option either: things were moving too fast for that. She opened her mouth to object, but Tren cut in.
‘If you took us to the Library without clearance, what would happen?’
‘You would set off the security measures,’ Ana replied without hesitation. ‘That will mean mechs, alarms and pain.’
‘And Krays would probably want to know what was going on, wouldn’t he? He’d follow the noise.’
Ana sneered. ‘We will hope so, and before his mechanicals tear the two of you to pieces.’
‘Then let’s go,’ Tren said. Eva could hear the mocking smile in his words.
‘Agreed,’ she said, rising from her chair. ‘If we can’t go to Krays, we’ll have to bring him to us.’
‘I do not think you understand the risk,’ Ana said coldly. ‘These mechs are not to be disregarded.’
Eva mimicked the careless shrug so often performed by A
na. ‘We will have to take that risk. Now, please. Every minute that we sit here talking about it, our collective enemies inflict more damage on our homelands.’
Ana looked at her husband, but he advanced no opinion at all.
‘Very well,’ she said with immense dignity. ‘But you must understand that I cannot protect you from those creatures.’
‘If I am killed, I promise not to hold you responsible,’ Eva replied.
Eva knew she had shown some bravado, but she was nervous as Ana dragged her around the Map to Krays’s Library. She had seen the mangled whurthag-mech that Limbane had lifted from his rival’s domain not long ago. Even twisted and broken it had looked fearsome. She had no desire to meet such a creature in working order.
Ana took them to a bookcase-lined room that looked familiar. So familiar that Eva feared, just for an instant, that they’d been tricked; surely Ana had taken them to Limbane’s Library?
No. A quick glance showed her enough differences to reassure her that this was a different building. Apart from anything, where Limbane’s bookcases would be full of actual books, these were stacked with slender boxes instead, their contents a mystery to her.
She didn’t have time to notice anything else because an alarm went off, distracting her train of thought. It wasn’t a loud sound; more of an insistent beep, a peculiar sound that sliced into her mind, threatening to bestow a towering headache in short order.
‘Horrible noise,’ Tren said, through gritted teeth. ‘But it should bring Krays.’
Eva didn’t answer that. She was too busy watching the doorways, waiting for the mechs Ana had mentioned. They would be along soon, summoned by the tumult, or some other sensor she knew nothing about.
Orlind Page 19
